OUTDOORS GUIDE | Doing a little digging

The Kirschbaum family digs clams on the beach at Brown Point in July. Writer Terri Gleich joined the excursion to learn how to clam for this edition of the West Sound Guide to the Outdoors.

A bag of steamer clams harvested from a beach along Hood Canal.

Andy Kirschbaum does the digging while niece Sarah searches for steamer clams.

Note: This story comes from the upcoming West Sound Guide to the Outdoors, a new quarterly magazine published by the Kitsap Sun. Look for the Outdoors Guide in Friday's edition, and find more information about the West Sound Guide family of publications at westsoundguide.com.

Dan Kirschbaum started clamming when he was in first grade and spent boyhood summers peddling Littlenecks and Cherrystones door-to-door on Fire Island, N.Y., where he and his brother Andy earned the moniker "Clam Boys."

He has worked as a commercial clammer and one of the first things the mechanical engineer did after moving to Western Washington 24 years ago was buy a 20-foot boat for crabbing, shrimping and clamming.

"I've never bought clams in my life and I've never bought crab," he said.

So, when I needed a shellfish tutorial, I hitched a boat ride with the Kirschbaum family to Brown Point (also known as DNR 57-B), a sandy state-owned beach on the Hood Canal that's open year-round for clamming.

Before setting out with shovel and bucket, I purchased a state shellfish license for $16.30, the cost of about three pounds of Manila clams at the grocery. As a license holder, I'm part of a very large club – the state issued about 423,000 recreational shellfish licenses last year and more than 200,000 Puget Sound crab endorsements.

The annual license, which is available at sporting goods stores or on-line at fishhunt.dfw.wa.gov/, entitles me to harvest up to 40 Manila clams a day (not to exceed 10 pounds). Each must be at least 1½ inches across the widest part of the shell.

Rules vary for each type of shellfish and, in some cases, each species, and are detailed on the Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife's website at wdfw.wa.gov/fishing/shellfish/ The daily limit for oysters, for example, is 18 and the state requires you to shuck them on the beach and leave the shells in the area where you found them.

At the website, you can find species photos, a list of public clam and oyster beaches, and important safety tips, such as the Shellfish Safety Hotline number. Call (800) 562-5632, to check for closures due to pollution, bacteria or biotoxins. There's also a link to the Washington State Department of Health's map showing the health status of shellfish beaches.

For DNR 57-B, where we're headed, a gold line on the map indicates there's a Vibriosis advisory between June and September. Vibrio are naturally occurring bacteria found in shellfish that can cause intestinal illness. To kill them, the state health department advises cooking shellfish to a minimum temperature of 145 degrees for 15 seconds.

Because some toxins found in shellfish are deadly and cannot be destroyed by cooking, it's important to check the map and heed beach closures.

All the warnings about illness and death can be overwhelming to an inexperienced clammer like me, but Rich Childers, the fish & wildlife department's Puget Sound shellfish manager, stresses that shellfishing is a safe activity.

"If we have the beach open, you're safe," he said. "But this time of year, I would cook everything."

As we set out from Seabeck, timing our arrival at Brown Point to coincide with a -1.1 low tide, it is the kind of sparkling, sunny day that makes visitors want to move here and reminds residents why we put up with all the gray months. The Olympic Mountains stretch out in the distance, Great Blue Herons skim the water and colonies of wine-colored starfish dot the shoreline.

Along the way, the Kirschbaums check two crab pots they've baited with raw chicken. The first trap contains two scrabbling Dungeness, the second 16. Each must be measured with a gauge and checked for the telltale triangular marking on its underside that distinguishes male from female.

"Look at that one," said Kirschbaum, holding a 7-incher by the back of the shell, his fingers well out of reach of its claws. "That's a meal right there."

The two pots yield 10 keepers, male Dungeness at least 6¼ inches across the widest part of the shell. Females and smaller crabs must be returned to the water. Dan and wife Pat Kirschbaum, can keep five Dungeness each because they each have purchased an $8.75 Puget Sound crab endorsement in addition to their shellfish licenses. They must record their catch on a card that is submitted to the state at the end of the season.

Hood Canal crab season opened July 1 and continues Thursdays through Mondays each week through Labor Day. In 2012, recreational crabbers caught about 2.1 million pounds of Dungeness.

With the crabs stored alive in wells filled with seawater, we skip across the waves toward Brown Point, anchor the boat and wade to the sandy beach. At 11, the Kirschbaum's daughter Sarah is already an expert. She immediately starts looking for holes in the sand and water spurts that indicate bivalves below.

Kids younger than 15 can harvest clams without a license.

"I like that I can get dirty and my mom won't yell at me," she said. "And I like finding clams. I feel really proud of myself when there's a ton of clams in a hole I picked."

At this stop, we're looking for Butter clams, which the Kirschbaums steam, chop in a food processor and use for chowder and clams casino, a baked dish with sautéed onions, celery, garlic and bread crumbs, served on the half-shell and topped with bacon.

The clams are found about eight to 14 inches deep and have smooth, cream-colored shells with concentric rings across the widest part. They are heavy and most we find are 4-6 inches across. Jacob Kirschbaum, 13, tells me to check closed clamshells by trying to pull them apart. If there's resistance, they're alive. Sometimes the shells pop open and are filled with sand.

"I found one. I found one with my bare hand," Sarah exclaimed, lifting her prize out of a hole filed with murky water.

After digging for a half-hour in the intertidal zone, we've filled a net bag with about 10 pounds of clams, the Butter clam limit for one person. We backfill the holes, making sure the Horse clams we dug but don't want are placed siphon-up. We don't leave any mounds of sand that could suffocate clams.

We boat around the point to a gravelly spot that's better habitat for Manila clams. Also known as steamers, the clams are small, tender and delicious served in their own broth or with melted butter. Walking past beds of purple sand dollars, we dig a few inches deep with shovels and our hands, screening out sand, rocks, cockles, mussels and several species of clams in search of the ridged shells of the Manilas, with their brown and cream patterns as intricate as a Suquamish cedar basket.

In just 40 minutes, we've harvested our limit, filled in the holes and rinsed the net bags full of clams in seawater to remove some of the grit.

If you don't have a boat, you can still gather your fill of clams and oysters. Many good beaches are accessible by car, according to Jeff Adams of Washington Sea Grant, a research and outreach agency affiliated with the University of Washington. He recommends Shine Tidelands, North Case Inlet, Belfair State Park, Illahee State Park and Kitsap Memorial State Park.

Washington Sea Grant is developing a series of harvesting courses for beginners that are expected to begin next year and cover everything from clams and salmon to mushrooms and nettles. For information, contact Adams at jaws@uw.edu.

Back at the Kirschbaum's Silverdale home, the Manila clams are rinsed, steamed and served. Amazingly, the ones I eat have no grit inside.

Butter clams need a little more work. The cooked meat needs to be rinsed after removal from the shells. Dan Kirschbaum also removes and discards the bulbous stomach, cutting one in half to show me that it's full of sand. He saves the clam juice from steaming both types of clams for later use in chowder.

The crab, which was cleaned on the boat, is cut in half and steamed until the shell is scarlet. The sweet white meat from the legs and body is tasty with or without melted butter.

We feast for hours, the briny deliciousness reminding us how lucky we are to live in Western Washington.

Terri Gleich is a freelance writer who is a regular contributor to the Kitsap Sun and the West Sound Guide series of community publications. She lives in Poulsbo.